The Burning Crusade
by Northwoods Dude
Summary: In the near future of the 22nd century we are now experiencing the golden age. Since the arrival of the Imperator Sucundus. We have spread across the stars and prospered. However in the year 2157, we have encountered a new threat. A species of xenos known only as "Turians" and "The Council" have been encountered. The Fleets are mobilized. And now, from the peace there is only war.
1. The Crusade Begins

**Arising**

'It's cold.' That was his first thought. He had just now opened his eyes for the very first time in...who knew how long. Months, Years, Decades, Centuries, or even, by the Old Gods forbid, Millennia.

"Lord Jonson is arising." He looked up Two Watchers that were standing nearby said in perfect unison. For years he had been around the Watchers in the Dark, but never once had he ever heard one mutter a single breathe. "The Angels of Caliban will rejoice at the news that the Lion of Caliban has awoken. And we must wake the others." They soon vanished leaving his once again alone.

He stood from his slab of stone that the Watchers placed him on when they recovered him and began to slowly gather himself. On a rack nearby was his suit of Artificer armor and the power sword that he used at the time of Caliban's fall. He reached out to touch the hilt that replaced his old blade but...Caliban. This sword was made of Adamantine pulled from the crust of a beautiful jewel of Emerald forests and Knightly Monasteries, and this sword was all that remained of a once beautiful world that he destroyed.

However there was one comfort, from what the watchers had stated, his children were still alive. The Dark Angels, still remained. He truly had to wonder on what the passage of time had done to them, were they still the same, Or had the simple flow of time changed them beyond recognition?

Soon numerous Watchers approached him in a Monastic fashion with a singular leader. Soon the angelic beings surrounded him. Each of the Watchers grabbed various parts of his armor. Before he was able to react or say anything they began to seal him into his armor. Breastplate, Gauntlets, Pauldrons, Greaves, Saboults, along with numerous pieces of the armor. Within seconds he had been resealed into his armor. Jonson only had moments to get reaccustomed to the weight his armor before all but the the Watcher leading the group began to walk from him. When they had all left the Watcher turned around and began to walk away.

"Wait!" The Lion roared expecting the Watcher to stop or say something, however it only continued to walk on. Realizing that it hadn't even stalled he quickly attempted to catch up to it. This though proved to be problematic as it continuing to march on ahead of him. Jonson crawled his way through the bowels of this fortress following the Watcher. After what Jonson believed to have been hours of grueling labor and snaking through the dark, wet, and draft passages that the Watcher lead him through. The passages twisted and turned in ways the Lion could never imagine, ways that gave him a headache beyond measure. He had honestly started to think that the Watcher had gotten them lost however he could see a light off in the distance. It was faint, but it was still it was enough to give him a boost in morale.

He continued his pace towards wherever the light was coming from, fortunately the Watcher seemed to be leading him towards the same light that he saw getting closer and closer. Soon the Lion found himself embraced by light. After a handful of moments, when his eyes had been accustomed to the light, he began to look around. The Watcher that guided him here was gone and any semblance that there was an entrance behind him vanished.

"Who in the warp are you?!" He turned his head towards the voice. It was an Astartes in green power armor with a power sword drawn. He mentally listed the color schemes of each and every legion, traitor and loyalist, that he could think of; he even thought of his lost brothers but even theirs didn't match. That is when he saw his sigil, the winged blade of Caliban. This Astartes was one of his sons.

"I said. Who ar…"

The Lion quickly overcame his feelings of fatherhood and adopted a look of iron. "I am Lion El'Jonson, otherwise known as The First, the Lord of Caliban, and the Primarch of the First legion." The Astartes quickly kneeled, rested his blade on the ground, and bowed his head, as a sign of his loyalty. "Who are you that I find myself speaking to?"

"Sargent Engels of the fifth company, my lord."

"Then rise Engels, tell me who has taken control of the First Legion during my absence?"

Using his sword to aid him, the Astartes stood up but the Primarch still towered over the Marine, something that the marine wasn't accustomed to. "My Lord, the Legions have been dissolved and split into chapters." Engels explained.

Jonson approached Engels, "Why were the legions split up?"

"If you excuse me my Lord, but the Supreme Grandmaster will be able to explain the situation to you much better than I could. If you will it I will bring you to him."

"That is fine, I will meet this son of mine and speak to him."

* * *

 **Brothers Reunited**

From The Lion's Gate on Terra, the tower of the Astartes was visible. The thirteenth son remembered ascending the tower millennia ago. It was the long forgotten day he had taken command of his legion.

His time on old Earth had been short in those days.

His father, The Emperor had taken him here, to humanity's home world. To his father's Throne World.

Ascending the spire had been one of the greatest challenges he had ever faced.

A might liken to that of a god attempted to force him down.

But on and on he struggled up.

But it was not just the challenge of ascending the tower in the physical sense that was difficult.

It was knowing that once, or if, you reached the top, your old life was dead.

That his ascension would sentence the 500 worlds of Macragge's domain to a far away empire.

He remembered that doubt continue to build in him with every step tread along ever stair.

He wondered if ever one of his brothers felt like that on their walk up. So many bards, scholars, authors, and painters attempted to capture the moment of each essential.

Every one failed.

Nothing could capture that moment, you needed to be a primarch of the Emperor to understand.

One of his twenty gene sons… no, not twenty, at least not anymore.

He was the last, but maybe not for long. For if the words of Son's of Jonson were true; that if their primarch truly did live.

Then maybe, just maybe the Imperium could be saved.

That is why he was at the Lion's Gate.

One of three spaceports on Terra that connect to the Imperial Palace. That was why the Rock was now in orbit above the planet.

A new moon almost, a flying continent to rival that of even the great flying plates of Old Terra. One was visible in the distance to him now. Past the fog rolling ahead of it, almost heralding its advance.

It's dark silhouette in the distance.

A colossal octagon, held aloft by anti-grav engines none of the mechanicum understood even in his time.

But above it, the spires and towers that cleaved through the atmosphere of Terra like power axe.

He wondered how the defence of Terra would have gone if they did not possess them. Soon a company of Terminators in Bone-white armor approached following a man who towered over the entire company.

* * *

 **The New Crusade**

The Primarchs towered over the Astartes. However, standing before the gate that bore his name, the Lion finally spoke. "Greetings my Brother." He said dutifully.

"And you my brother." Guilliman said. Soon he offered a hand to his elder brother. As soon as the Lion of Caliban accepted, he pulled Guilliman into an embrace. He held there for a few minutes before they separated.

"I hear that you have only just reawaken too, brother." The First asked in the statement.

"I have Lion." Guilliman said to his brother. They began to walking into the palace followed by their honor guards.

"Are the rumors true? That you spoke with father?" Jonson asked once the titan guarded gates closed.

"They are." Guilliman said.

"What did you discuss? There had to be something important." Jonson said demandingly.

Guilliman continued to walk in silence. "It would be best to hear it from himself." Jonson stared at his brother for a second as they walked.

-x-

Jonson walked into the throne room. Besides from the Companions of the Emperor himself, they were alone. Jonson stared upon the Golden Throne, more importantly, who sat on the throne. Their father's body had all but withered away. All that remained was skin tightly wrapped around the body and bones occasionally poking through.

"The First." Jonson looked around hearing a voice. "Not only is the eleventh returned, but now I have a new pawn."

Jonson looked at the throne and spoke, "Father?"

"Yes." Jonson heard.

He took a step towards the throne. "What do you want me to do? There must be something?"

There was silence in the great hall, when suddenly Jonson's mind was hit with wave of images.

-x-

First his mind saw an image of a mighty fortress world. Before it stood the forces of Chaos, soon the world cracked and shattered, and the forces of chaos spread throughout the galaxy. The Space Marines and unending forces of the Imperial Guard fought and were pushed back. Soon the galaxy was split by a great schism of the warp. While the Imperium eventually fought off the forces of Chaos. Eventually the forces of order would be drowned in the seas of chaos.

-x-

Jonson thought about the vision in his mind repeated. "Was that the future?"

His father's voice was missing, however, his brother did speak. "Yes that was."

"So than," Jonson said, "the Imperium is doomed." His voice was filled with sorrow.

"Maybe not." Guilliman said. Jonson looked at his brother. He had a look of steel across his face. "Father asked me to raise a fleet and an army with it. Than take it through a warp storm, known as the Emperor's Wrath."

The First Primarch looked at his brother, "Why would you enter a warp storm?"

Guilliman walked right up to the steps of the Golden Throne. "When I asked father the same he explained that he opened it so that travel to a parallel galaxy."

Jonson approached confused, "A parallel galaxy?"

"Physically it's exactly the same as our galaxy. Star formations and planet locations should more or less be the same. Otherwise I don't know of the extent of the similarities." Guilliman said. Almost as if he we ordering the Lion himself.

El'Jonson held his words for a moment taking in every detail that had been offered to him. "What does this have to do with me?" Jonson finally asked.

"Only a Primarch may lead this fleet. That much our father has decreed. I however cannot leave this Imperium." Guilliman paused. Jonson could hear his brother sigh heavily before turning to him. "Which is why I ask you to lead this force in my stead."

The Lion was experiencing mixed emotions. Although anger won out. "So you expect me to abandon the Imperium!" He yelled. "I was unable to help our father before, but now that I has reawoken you expect me to abandon everything! Just so you can say that you didn't break your honor!"

"LION!" Jonson felt a psychic shockwave, and from the faces of everyone else they also felt it. He looked to the throne and nearly forgot where he was.

A pregnant silence hung in the air before Guilliman broke it. "Lion, one of needs to go with this crusade. So they may establish the new Imperium. Weather it is you or I, I truly don't care." Guilliman and Jonson locked eyes. "What I do care about is sending this of before the next wave of the Despoiler's forces return."

Lion El' Jonson thought. In that he thought of every possible circumstance and outcome. Until eventually he made his decision.

* * *

 **Departure**

Lord Commander of The Imperium, Roboute Guilliman, stood erect like a pillar on the bride of Macragge's Honour.

Unmoving, and unflinching, like a statue carved out of stone.

He watched like a sentinel, out of the viewports of his ship. Its opening to the void looking more akin to the panels of glass belonging to a cathedral of old Terra, rather than the view ports of a 30th millenia star ship.

He stared right into the heart of the warp storm they called "The Emperor's Wrath."

It seemed to look back at him, with the same dead stare he had seen upon his father's withered, carrion like face.

He was one of the last primarchs. A dying breed if ever there was one.

Now he would be the last loyalist in the galaxy.

For what watched with him was a fleet in size not seen since the Emperor walked among men. If he had a fleet like this then, and had gotten it to Terra… maybe..

No, that is the past. A dead time, now soon the fates would decide, which primarch would live, and which would die.

Guilliman had always been the pragmatic type of man.

There were several possibilities from what was about to happen. Either Lion El'Jonson would live, or perish in the warp after crossing over.

Then either he would live or die, by the hands of the terrors that now strangled the Imperium across almost all her millions of worlds.

The Lion, and this fleet, would be gone forever. Where they might end up, no one knew, but this was the only chance they had, for the Imperium his father had established to live in any form. "Father" he spoke to nothing, "If you truly can hear me now, I want you to know I'm sorry it had to come to this. We don't have much longer, do we? Even now I can sense the Astronomicon dim, and flicker. I am unable to say with any form of certainty, only that I swore to you, when I first saw what Horus had done to you, that I would spend every last breath of mine defending this Imperium. That is what I do now I think… I hope.."

His new officer, Cato Sicarius spoke up, "Who is it you speak to my lord?" The primarch was still getting used to new breed of Ultramarines he has to command. But this one at least knew his way around a sword. "I speak to your God, I should think." Thundered Guilliman, whose voice echoed across the vast chamber. "Our God?" Sicarius retorted, almost in a plea. The eleventh son of the Emperor shook his head, not caring that the Elcisiarch himself, Dessius IX was only a few feet from him.

The man spoke, with an almost unnaturally soothing voice, "The God-Emperor protects…"

Guilliman cocked his head to look at him, "I hope for our sakes," He turned his head back to face the massed fleet, "And theirs, that he really does."

They stood like that, for what could have been an age, in nothing but total quiet. The only noise the low din of the engines thousands of meters below. It was almost like a moment of silence, observed during funerals. Thats was a morbid thought, but not unjustified.

It was the mighty primarch who broke the silence.

"Sicarius."

"Yes, Liege?" He said coming to attention.

"Get to the hangers, make sure the Grey Knights there are ready to leave. Make sure they have it with them."

Cato Sicarius bowed and readied to leave, before the primarch stopped him once more.

"You are to board the thunder hawk with them."

"My Lord I…"

He was cut off, "Sicarius, I place upon you, the new duty to serve as my voice. I name you the Envoy Of Terra, you shall sit upon Lion El'Jonson's council, and do as I would bid, if I was there myself. Is that understood?"

Sicarius held his tongue as thousands of thoughts and emotions overtook him, and he nodded.

That was the last time he saw his gene father. As he walked to the gunship ready to take him aboard the Rock. The Grey Knights were waiting for him, as if they knew he would be joining them.

"Are you the one they told us was being brought along?"

Spoke the marine in terminator armour.

He replied swiftly, "Yes, it is I, Cato Sicarius, second captain of the Ultramarines. Knight champion of Macragge."

"And I am Grand Master Voldus of the Grey Knights, Warden of the librarius."

"Do you have the item they told me about?"

He scoffed, "This item, I will have you know, is known as the Terminus Decree."

Sicarius responded, "I care little what the box is, or what is in it. We have work to do."

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

 **This has been a little pet project from years ago. I do all of my writing in Google drive and I found this and decided to post this prologue chapter. I've decided to write the next two chapters and see what everyone's response is. If you're interested, cool. You can tell me or wait for the next couple of chapters. And if you're wondering why this is slightly different from my usual writing style, that's because Guiliman's parts were written by a friend. Also for reference there will be no Primaris Marines foe two reasons. First we started writing this before they were a thing, second I don't really like the Primaris Marines for the sole reason I do not trust them.**


	2. Into Hell

Shanxi Sub-Sector M1.671

The Judgement has been patrolling the sub-sector for nearly four months. We have found nothing out of particular. With this in mind I have ordered The Judgement back to the Sector Dry-Docks at Port Lion.

The captain of The Judgement shut off his Audio-log. He reached into a compartment next to his throne and withdrew his ration of alcohol and poured himself a glass. "By the Primarch and the Emperor!" He yelled to no one in particular. He then threw his head back and swallowed the contents of the glass. "It has been over six hundred years since the Primarch arrived at Terra and founded the Nova Imperialis, and STILL we have not found anything worth fighting!" He finished off the contents of his glass and poured a new one.

"Be careful what you wish for captain." The captain shot his gaze at the voice. He spotted the figure of Commissar Williams.

The captain drank another shot. "What do you know, commissar? The Primarch came to this galaxy to Purge the Xenos. How can we, his servants do that when there are none?"

"You should know that he came to our Universe for more reasons that just to kill but one of the Emperor's many enemies, captain."

The captain snorted, "You believe that fable the Ecclesiarchy tells us growing up commissar?"

"I always took my faith in the Emperor and his son very seriously." The commissar said narrowing his eyes. "And I would remind you, captain, that I am here to ensure the faith of this vessel." He said in a tone of anger.

The captain realized the slip that he had made not only in front of the ship's bridge crew but the commissar no less. "I apologize for my lack of faith Commissar Williams." He said quickly in a hope for forgiveness from the commissar.

The Commissar continued to stare at the captain. After a pregnaught silence the captain noticed that the Commissar slowly reached for his laspistol. "Captain!" The Auger midshipman called for him. Hoping to evade the Commissar's judgement he quickly made his way to the Midshipman.

"Report Midshipman." He said when he approached her close enough.

"Sir we have located a Mass Relay in the system."

"Do you have the coordinance." He saw the Midshipman nod. The captain than turned towards the Navigator. "Set a course for the relay and mark it. I want to activate it so we may send an exploration team to the other side."

"Yes my lord." The Navigator said.

The Captain turned back to the Commissar who had removed his hand from the side arm, but he continued to stare at him.

Attican Traverse 2167

According to our deep space scanners we have noticed anomalies near Relay 314. In response Turian High Command has dispatched my squadron to investigate. By the Spirits I pray that the scanners are not functioning properly.

The Turian Commander shut off his Audio-record. He left his personal quarters and made his way to the bridge. 'I've had a bad feeling about this mission since we left Palaven.' When he walked onto his platform overseeing one of the most skilled command units of the Hierarchy.

"Commander," He looked at his Navigator. "We have spotted the Relay."

"Good. Are our scanners picking up anything near the Relay?"

"It's a ship that appears to be opening a relay, however…" After a long silence, he heard the navigator mutter an expletive and the silence return to the bridge. "It's unlike anything I have ever seen."

"Bring it up on the screen." The Turian captain said. Suddenly a ship appeared. His Navigator was correct. The ship did not fit the profile of any craft of Turian, Asari, or Salarian design. He brought up the ship's records of Rachni, Krogan, Volus, Quarian, Elchor, and even Geth ships. None matched.

"This must be a new race or perhaps pirates. If this is a new race The Council's policy is to begin diplomatic response and ask them to cease." One of the bridge officers said.

"Comm officer, bring up communications with the ship." The captain said.

"Aye sir." After a long minute the comm officer spoke again. "Sir, they are not responding to our hails."

The captain thought for a second, weighing his options. "Try again, if they do not respond we must assume that they are pirates."

Shanxi Sub-Sector M1.671

"Sir!" The Auger operative yelled. "I've eight unidentified ships on my screens!"

The captain stared at her. "Are they Mechanicus, or Astartes!" He said hopeful.

"No, their signatures are not matching any known signatures." She responded back. "Nor are they responding to our vox comms."

"Astropath! Send a message explaining this development." The captain barked the command whilst taking his throne. As soon as he took his seat he flick the comm switch. "Master Gunner Adams we have spotted eight unknown ships. You are to prepare the ships batteries immediately!"

"Yes Captain." He heard from the other end of the comm system.

The Commissar quickly stormed back upon the deck. "I was informed about a new development."

"We've spotted a new group of ships, possibly non-Imperial." The captain said with a worried tone.

Williams snorted, "Careful what you wish for."

The captain lowered his head in shame. "But suddenly the ship was rocked by a barge from the now confirmed hostile ships."

"Adams open fire!" He yelled into the comm.

The ship sent out a broadside from it's starboard side. After a short pause the Auger operative shouted, "Sir one of the hostile ships has been hit and appears to have taken heavy damage."

"Good now…" Another barrage had ripped through the ship. Suddenly a delayed explosion rocked the ship. In the confusion most of the power of the bridge was shut off and the captain had fallen out of his throne.

He opened his vox comm. "Report on what had just happened."

"Sir, a round from the enemy ship had just ripped through the ship and detanted our generators. I also not receiving anything our plasma cannons." The master gunner responded.

"Tech priest!" He switched his comm relay. "What is the damage report."

"Decks 4, 7, and 8 have collapsed which had destroyed half of our plasma generators. In addition Decks 5 and 6 have been breached and crew's have been lost to the void." The mechanical voice responded.

"Do we still have for an emergency warp jump?" The captain asked much to the horror of many of the bridge crew and Commissar Williams.

"We could move power to the warp drives and allow us to make the jump to Shanxi." The Tech priest responded to the question.

"Than do it!" The captain yelled.

"Oh God-Emperor." Commissar Williams began to pray out loud and as he continued several others began to join. "Protect us your loyal servants. Deliver us from enemies of Man and grant us safe passage throughout the warp." Without warning the Captain felt familiar feeling of The Judgement entering the warp.

Once inside the warp they entire crew took a collected breather. Although the warp was calmer that it was in the old universe, at least according to what Williams had heard; it was still a dangerous game to launch an emergency jump. "Captain." Williams said to the captain. "Were our void shields up during contact?"

The captain stared at the angry Commissar. "I...I…"

"Um, Commissar Williams." He heard a young voice behind him. When he looked back he saw a young lieutenant. "I can confirm that the void shields had been lowered prior to our investigation of the Mass Relay, and were not raised prior to the engagement."

"Did you receive an order to raise said shields?" Williams asked.

"No sir." The young lieutenant said.

"Than." Williams turned back to the Captain. "I hereby sentence you to death for incompetence and lack of faith." He withdrew his pistol and executed the captain before anything could be said.

Which is when he turned his attention back to the young Lieutenant. "What is your name Lieutenant?"

"F...flag Lieutenant Steven Hackett, sir." The Lieutenant responded.

A pair of servators arrived to remove the captain's body from the throne. "With the recent events I have found the previous captain ill fit for command, with that in mind you are now Captain Hackett."

* * *

 ** _Author's notes_**

 _ **SO this is incredibly short I know please don't tell me that, I know. The issue is that I've written, rewritten, and rerewritten this chapter since I finished this. I started off telling the story from Jonson's and the Armada's conquest of Terra. I hated it and wasn't going to shove something I consider poor quality. Then I wrote this from the point of view of the start of Mass Effect. There was soooooooooo much stuff that I'd have to explain the history as I went and I didn't want to end the chapter with that Codex thing 'cause I'd have to do like a hundred a chapter. I didn't want to. So I decided to start from the start of the First Contact War. I am sorry for the wait and now that I hopefully do have to rerewrite a chapter they'll come out more frequently.**_


	3. There is Only War

**M1.673 Holy Terra Secundus**

Grand Master Belial had been the master of the First Company, The Deathwing, for nearly eight centuries. When he first served in the chapter he fought for the honor of the Chapter and his duty to the Primarch and the Emperor. Although so much had changed since his time in the Scout Company; not merely his station and prestige in the chapter. His Primarch had returned them, and after, the Dark Angel's and the Successors reformed the 1st Legion and established the Nova Imperium.

While the occasional revolt happened nothing shared the same implications that the news he was to bring his Primarch. He approached the Throne Room seeing two Astartes of the Lion's Guard. Once he approached close enough they nodded to him showing their respect of his station and deeds, whilst they opened the great doors to the Primarch's Throne.

Once opened he continued into the Great Hall of the Lion. At the far end he saw his Gene-father sitting upon his Throne. Surrounding him were two of his brothers; the Supreme-Grandmaster Azrael, and the Interrogator-Chaplain Asmodai. Although their were others there as well. That Ultramarine for one, but there were several others whose names he never learned. An old and grizzled man in a general's uniform and to his right the counterpart of the Imperial Navy. Standing uncomfortably close to Jonson was the Ecclesiarch. Besides those were several other members of whom didn't have much authority or power for Belial to care.

Standing further away was the Fabricator General. Whilst he had been on Jonson's council since his arrival to this galaxy the Primarch never trusted the Cogman. Belial once mustered the courage to ask his gene-father as to why that was. He still shuddered at the memory. The anger that was splattered across the Primarch's face terrified him, and his words. "I have never trusted the Martians. Diamat only helped prove that to me."

Once he was within twenty paces of the Primarch and his Council he kneeled. Whatever business was in action was halted as the Primarch's attention turned to him. "Master Belial." Azrael said. "We missed your counsel when we initiated our meeting." The Supreme-Grand Master said in an annoyed tone.

"Forgive me my lord. I come with a message from the Astropaths." He looked up waiting for the Primarch's approval. The approving nod from the sturn man sitting upon the throne signalled him to continue. "A Light Cruiser in the Shanxi Sub-sector has reported that it sustained heavy damage...from a Xenos ambush." The Humans of the council appeared shocked, however whilst he usually never would have claimed so, he thought he saw a smirk on his Primarch's face.

 **M1.673 Shanxi Subsector**

The Judgement was spat out of the warp. Thankfully the The Judgement arrived at the Shanxi System in no worse condition than when it had made the jump. Captain Hackett raised the vox caster. "Shanxi Command. This is The Judgement. Permission to dock at your facilities."

There was a short silence, "Judgement, you've received docking permission." Came a voice over the vox.

After the ship had docked at the small orbital station. Hackett and Williams rushed to a meeting with the station's commander. He was an older man. Clearly a former naval officer telling from how he kept his uniform. "Come sit." They heard him call." They sat at the chairs that lied before the desk in the dark room. "So what did you guys run into? Asteroids?" He said as soon as they sat down.

"Xenos." Williams responded.

The Sations commander froze in whatever he was doing. Suddenly he got up and stared out his window. "It has been six hundred years since the founding the Empire. While the Ecclesarry have always warned us I never…" He paused on the words. "What do you need from me."

The Station Commander and Commissar Williams focused their attention on Hackett. "Well...I…" Hackett thought over it for a moment. "There were eight xenos ships. We caused severe damage to one of the larger ships, so we can expect a minimum of seven combat effective ships. I believe that we could hold them off if The Judgement is repaired and ready to fight, and that combined with the Station's defences. However…"

"If the xenos have reinforcements?" The Station Commander interrupted.

"I don't know. In that case I will use the Judgement in a Hit-and Run role and abandon the Shanxi station." Hackett responded.

"Is abandoning the station necessary? It is only constructed within the decade." The commander asked.

"Unfortunately it might come to that." Williams stated. "If I understand it properly that is standard doctrine in the case of xenos invasion that can not be defeated in pitched battle."

The station commander sighed. "I will set all effort into repairing The Judgement. After that I will send all non-necessary personal to the planet."

"Speaking of which." Williams started in again. "I will need a shuttle to the planet."

"What for?" The station's commander asked.

"I am a Commissar. I wish to inspect the ground troops as soon as possible in the case of planetary invasion."

 **Attican Traverse 2167**

"Excellent job Commander." The Primarch of the Turian Hierarchy said.

"Thank you for your praise, sir. But I assure you that it was done out of duty." The Turian Commander said.

"No matter commander. Have you yet had a fix on where the pirates fled?" The Primarch asked.

"Yes sir. It took longer than expected however after one of our Biotics suggested that we tune the sensors we were able to detect their FTL route." The Commander said. "However sir. I must state again that I do not believe that these were meer Pirates. The ship did not act like a pirate vessel, and…"

"Commander." The Turian Primarch shut something off on his end of the communication. "What I am about to tell you says strictly off the record. We need room to expand, the council's policy has been restricting our growth. The Attican Traverse may be the only hope for the future of the Hierarchy. I can not tolerate a comparator in this region, the Batarians are a bad enough, these newcomers…" He turned on whatever he turned off again. "Which is why I am sending you the First and Third Fleets to reinforce you on this campaign. Once he arrives General Adrien Victus will take command."

"I understand sir. Although I have one more question. When will the fleets arrive?"

"If there are no issues, it should take the fleets in their entirety a week or so." The Primarch said. "After that perhaps a few hours for the FTL jump."

 **M1.673 Shanxi**

"Is this it?" Williams asked the young colonel.

"Yes sir." The young officer said, "The Shanxi PDF."

Williams looked over an accumulation of perhaps a thousand men and women. They were lined up like soldiers, but they weren't proper soldiers. Some soldiers weren't standing at attention, or talking to each other. A few of the men allowed themselves to be unshaven. While some regiments differed from the standard, Shanxi has not had the proper time. However this was a vast display of indiscipline, a scorn to both the Primarch, and the God-Emperor.

Commissar Williams understood what had to be done. The xenos were coming. "Colonel, I am assuming command of the Planetary Defense Force effective immediately."

The colonel looked confused. "What do you mean?"

The colonel's response was a lasbolt to the face. He turned to the men and women preset addressed them. "I am Commissar Williams. From here on out I will be the commanding officer of this regiment. I will restore the discipline of this force. We must be ready when a unknown xeno force will probably arrive to this world. Is that understood?!"

There were a handful shouts of, "Yes sir!" However the vast majority of the force assembled stayed silent. "My first order is the punishment of Decimation!" The entire force looked to each other oddly. "Form lines of ten!" With this order none of the soldiers present obeyed, simple stood their confused.

With no one following his order he withdrew his pistol and executed the closest ten men. "I ordered you to form up in lines of ten! If this order is not obeyed I will personally execute each and everyone of you. Am I understood."

Within seconds the entire group assembled had formed multiple lines of ten. "Now I want you to beat the man on the right end of line." Everyone was quite hesitant. However when the Commissar once again raised his pistol at one of the lines. Immediately one of the men took his Lasrifle and bashed the butt off his gun into his face. After several more beatings the tenth man of the line had his head splattered across the ground of the drilling yard. After seconds knives, guns being used as makeshift clubs were flying through the air. Within a few minutes there were about a hundred bodies laid across the ground and beaten to death.

After the massacre the lines reformed, shaken and short one member. "Good." Williams announced. "Now that you can follow orders we will begin training."

 **M1.673 Holy Terra Secundus**

"We sent the order. Every ship in this new Imperium are mobilizing." Azrael said to Belial.

Belial looked to his old friend. "What of the Legion's fleet?"

"I've sent an order to assemble the fleet and all of the Astartes. I've also alerted the Deathwatch and Grey Knights of the Xenos." Azrael paused for a moment and looked over the walls of the Primarch's Great Palace. "I estimate about in roughly a day or two the entire fleet shall arrive, and then from there we'll send out an entire fleet of roughly a hundred ships and twelve thousand of our brothers. From there we will strike for Shanxi itself."

"Good." The two friends stood there for a long while taking in the scene. The Scared Sun of the Solar system had begun to set on the landscape of the land. This land of Old Albion was where the Lion built his palace. When the Dark Angels arrived they found a people in a Feudalistic state. Much like the stories of Caliban. Now Albion was covered by the Palace and two massive Hive Cities. Even though this was the case, Belial still found it beautiful. "Is the news it true? About Asmodai?" Belial asked with a mounful tone.

Azrael continued to stare. "Yes. Today was Asmodai's last council. He will take up the sarcophagus of a Dreadnought tomorrow."

Belial continued to look onto the land outside the place upon the sunset scape. "So it is true."

"Yes." Azrael turned his focus to Belial. "I must be honest with you Belial. My reflexes have begun to slow as well. Asmodai is four hundred years older than us, even if we continue using stasis we'll get to the point that we slow down and die."

"So that is the case than." Belial said mournfully. "What must we do? We can not leave our father without those who can take his counsel, and you and I both know that we cannot leave him with those weak bureaucrats."

Azrael nodded his head. "I agree." He handed him a data slate. "I have compiled a list of those brothers who have shone brighter than their brethren."

Belial looked at this list. "What do you wish me to do with this information?"

Azrael looked back to the landscape. The sun had set over the course of their conversation, however the lights from the palace and the distant hives still shone as great as the sun. "I feel that we are descending into another time of great and unending war. We will need heroes for a time like that. I want to hand pick our successors and we will find the most worthy amongst them."

Belial opened up the data slate's list. "Well than…" He read the first profile that he saw and was frankly impressed. "What about Shepard?"

* * *

 ** _Author's notes_**

 ** _So I actually have a bit more of this wrote, but I decided to end this chapter here so it builds up to the upcoming battle. Otherwise tell me what you think. I need to bring Cato Scarius into this somehow, Guilliman sent him out with the Lion. Just for reference I am basing Scarius off of Cato Scarius in If the Emperor had a Text to Speach Device by Brava Alfabusa. So he is essentially here for the comedic effect._**


End file.
